


Restoration

by mudman



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Dystopia, M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11721882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudman/pseuds/mudman
Summary: On Earth he lived among aliens. The thought scarcely crossed Law’s mind. In fact, all thoughts were scarce and far between. His species lacked emotion, and along with it: desire, purpose, preference, and individuality.However, no one minded. No one knew any different from their own reality.





	Restoration

**Author's Note:**

> For Thefrostyxx and WordsandWonder who somehow convinced me to post this sad attempt at writing. Enjoy~

On Earth he lived among aliens. The thought scarcely crossed Law’s mind. In fact, _all_ _thoughts_ were scarce and far between. His species lacked emotion, and along with it: desire, purpose, preference, and individuality.

However, no one minded. No one knew any different from their own reality.

Regarding the aliens, who made up a mere five percent of the population, all he needed to know was that they were a lower life form. Should he ever cross paths with one, he was not to interact with it. Their unpredictable nature made them dangerous. That was the information encoded in the survival chip.

It had been thought by the ancestors that humans would continue to advance their society forever. However they were wrong: advancement stopped twenty-something years ago after reaching its peak.

Now life was simple. Life was perfect.

The ultimate human had been achieved, a vessel capable of mindlessly working to the highest standard, and it was all thanks to a creation simply referred to as _The Port_.

The Port was made of thin metal, as flexible as skin. It was attached at the nape of the neck, and following the hairline it finished behind each ear. A microscopic rod which conducted electrical pulses was inserted through the skull into each temporal lobe, reaching to the hippocampus.

The hippocampus was selected as the prime location as its functions included transitioning new learning into the cortex for permanent storage. Additionally, being the part of the brain that generates new brain cells when exposed to mental stimulation, the hippocampus was the most adaptive host for the microscopic rods.

Situated at the nape, there were three tiny slots to hold information chips. After trial and error, it was concluded three slots was all the brain could handle before it would shut down, often permanently.

The first slot was reserved for the survival chip. This held all information necessary to live: the ability to diagnose and treat illness and injury, knowledge of a nutritious diet, and many other skills. The second chip was for language. Originally every language had been encoded, however it was later decided that it was a waste of memory space, and so it was reduced to the three most spoken languages: Mandarin, Spanish, and English. Initially this decision saw massive backlash because of the cultural identity and history being erased, but that was decades ago now. _Nobody cared anymore_.

The third chip held all the information needed for whatever role in society the individual was randomly assigned. They received this chip at the ripe age of sixteen when their bodies had finished growing. They would then provide over twenty years of service before their bodies would begin to expire at the life expectancy of forty.

 

* * *

 The World Leaders had a special type of Port. It held only one chip which contained the history of their research progress. One chip wasn’t overly taxing on the brain, which meant they were able to keep their sense of identity and purpose unlike the rest of the unsuspecting population.

The secret truth as to why these select few people had only one slot was because they knew of the toll that The Port took on the human brain. The frontal lobe, responsible for such things as personality, problem solving, judgement, expressive language and inhibition, would diminish from lack of use. Within a year of having the three-slot Port in place, people were reduced to void-minded labourers.

Of course the World Leaders would keep this information to themselves when the result was to their advantage. They were met with no defiance.

Another secret the World Leaders kept was the truth about the aliens. _There were no aliens_ , but rather a small community of people who lived outside the law. They were the product of parents who protested the creation of The Port, and had distanced themselves as far as possible from it back before it became a compulsory asset.

These alternative parents would home-school their children, teaching them things that were deemed unnecessary in new society: creative arts, empathy and morals. They lived under the radar, making an appearance in secrecy only to steal items necessary for their own survival.

 

* * *

 “ _Ugh_ , I hate medical supply scavenger duty,” Kid whined after forcing his entry in through a flimsy window. “Empty hospitals are creepy as fuck.”

“How creepy is ‘fuck’?” Wire asked, following through the newly made entrance and flicking on his torch.

“ _Fucking creepy_ ,” Kid answered with that stupid grin, raising his hairless brow.

They both snorted and began navigating through the myriad of white corridors, going deeper into the heart of the building.

They didn’t think twice about entering the supply room despite the light being on. They knew they had nothing to worry about, because people with Ports finished work at ten _on the dot_ each night like the freaks they were, which was fifteen minutes ago now.

So it was to their complete and utter surprise when they shoved through to door to find a dark haired man in surgical attire.

The man’s emotionless face showed no evidence of surprise, however his reaction suggested otherwise as he stumbled backwards before hitting his head on a shelf and falling to the ground, sending glass bottles smashing around him.

Kid and Wire froze where they stood.

The man slowly gathered himself into a crouching position. With his head bowed he grasped the back of his neck and appeared to be shivering.

“You watch him to make sure he doesn’t move while I grab the stuff,” Wire ordered, all business, before disappearing amongst the tall metal shelving, empty duffle bag in hand.

“Alright,” Kid agreed, although the man didn’t looked like he would be moving anytime soon.

After a moment Kid took a few cautious steps closer. A trickle of blood down the side of the man’s neck caught Kid’s eye.

“You okay?” Kid asked with genuine concerned despite knowing the other couldn’t detect emotion.

Kid wasn’t surprised when he got no response. He moved to crouch down next to other, and gently moved the hand which clutched the injury. The vivid red blood which coated the other’s palm reminded Kid that the two of them weren’t so different.

Kid’s eyes widened when he saw the damage: the slot section of The Port had been scraped clean off, leaving open flesh. The wound wasn’t deep, it was the equivalent of having a section of skin torn off, and so the bleeding made it look worse than it actually was.

“ _What are you doing!?_ ” Wire demanded, his voice coming out of nowhere and making Kid jump out of his skin.

“His Port is broken,” Kid mumbled, quickly recovering, sounding distracted while his mind comprehended the significance of this opportunity.

“ _So?_ Leave him, someone will find him in the morning. Let’s go.”

Kid didn’t move. He could feel Wire’s glare burning into the back of his head. Kid pulled the smaller male’s arm around his neck and gripped his waist, pulling him up so that they were both standing now.

Wire pinched the bridge of his nose in disapproval and clenched his eyes shut. “ _Please don’t do what I think you’re going to do_.”

“But his Port is _broken_ , Wire,” Kid repeated, sounding more determined this time.

Wire could tell Kid had already made up his mind, and Kid would have to be the most irritating person ever to argue with, so he let it go. _Whatever_. Kid would get eaten alive when they made it back to the house anyway.

Wire flicked the torch on again and led the way into the darkness. Kid and his new project stumbled along close behind.

 

* * *

 Before walking through the front door to their home, knowing that the peaceful calm inside was only seconds away from being disrupted, Wire turned to Kid in warning. “You’re on your own explaining this one. I want nothing to do with it.”

“ _Yeah, yeah_. Got it.”

Kid stepped through the door, hiding the smaller body behind him. Everyone was here: the other four people who Kid lived with, as well as the six people who lived in the house way over on the other side of the fruit and vegetable fields. Kid mentally groaned.

Wire had been right, within minutes there were yells of protest.

“ _Why did you bring it here!?_ It could have a tracking device!” Barked Shanks.

“ _What_ , a tracking device in his _broken_ Port? _You_ were the one always talking about the possibility of someone regaining their personality if The Port was removed!” Kid shouted back.

“ _In theory!_ I didn’t think you would actually kidnap one of them and bring it back here!”

“I didn’t kidnap him! He came willingly!”

“Only because _it isn’t capable of resistance!_ I’m serious Kid, get rid of it!”

“ _He’s staying_ ,” Kid snarled back, low and dangerous. He pulled the foreigner by the arm back to his bedroom before anyone could protest any more.

Kid slammed the door and felt a horrible twist in his gut as he questioned whether he was doing the right thing. He ignored the feeling and rummaged through his cupboard for his first aid kit and some old clothes from when he was younger and closer to the other’s size.

“Can you speak?” Kid asked, glancing over his shoulder at the other who was standing aimlessly. No response. “Can you understand me?”

This time the other gave a slow nod of confirmation.

Good, this was a start.


End file.
